


A Devil's Heart━YOI Demon AU

by meaty_katsudon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Demon Victor Nikiforov, Demons, Elves, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Master/Servant, Masturbation, Mild Language, Prince Victor Nikiforov, Prince Yuri Plisetsky, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, your purity will be stripped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-16 11:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14163594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaty_katsudon/pseuds/meaty_katsudon
Summary: You may be sitting in a place where you are aware of everything around you; you feel, touch, smell, and see…you are knowledgeable--to an extent.However, this is a place that surpasses your imagination. It is a place where humans are unheard of. Ask someone to your right, ‘Where’s the town hall?’ and they furrow their eyebrows and cock their heads.By “they,” I refer to demons."How did I manage to capture a demon's heart?"





	1. The Demon Prince

 

**Chapter One: Royals**

 

In this realm of demons and other fascinating creatures, there lie the empire of the Feltsmans, a powerful empire ruled by an equally powerful family, who have ruled for many centuries. Their citizens look to them for guidance, they serve them, kiss their feet, and beg for their recognition. The Imperial Royals basked in the attention and showed great pride in their superiority. And the people are very attentive to the next heir to the throne--the biggest bachelor in the empire…

The Imperial Crown Prince, Viktor Nikiforov. He’s the one that many believe to be the liberator of their dilemmas. ‘He will lead our empire to victory!’ read the press headlines.

His Highness is aware of this, and he plans to use the favor of the empire to his advantage.

***

 

The people shushed as he stepped onto the podium, thousands of screens across the empire displaying his face. His presence screamed nobility and allure, taking the hearts of even the most enchanting sirens and hideous goblins.

“People of Feldsman, I am Viktor, Crown Prince, and future emperor of this lovely empire.” The crowd before him cheered in praise, throwing flower petals into the air. Viktor smiled respectfully, giving a nod before continuing. “I plan to lead this empire into victory; that has always been my aspiration since I was a young boy. With your support, I believe I am fully capable of doing that.” Many individuals in the crowd whooped at the statement, filling Viktor with pride. “If all goes well, my coronation will be in a few months time, on the next blood moon. I will then choose my bride to stand by my side while I lead, for I cannot allow my siblings to steal the throne from my grasp. I will succeed in doing so, my citizens. That is a promise that I plan to keep. Thank you.”

And with that, the Crown Prince stepped off the podium dismissed in cheers and the support of his family waiting inside. The Feltsman Palace laced with fog, giving it quite the scare. However, the palace itself was fine, with drapery lining the walls, gold intertwined into the architecture, giving the sense of regality.

“Viktor!” A set of scurrying footsteps met Viktor. He turned in the direction to see Imperial Princess Mila and Imperial Prince Yuri, his siblings. Viktor and his bride of choice were the heirs of the Imperial throne of Emperor Yakov and Empress Lilia, and his siblings soon followed down the line. Viktor knew that Princess Mila was his biggest threat towards the goal of him sitting on the throne, and he has planned to ensure that she would not steal his one opportunity to become Emperor: at the next blood moon.

Mila smoothed her gown and smirked. “Why, that speech was very--short and sweet!” She laughed dryly. “Very brief! Perhaps a future Emperor should know how to give a proper speech, eh? I bet I could’ve done bett--”

“Shut up, Mila. He did fine.” Yuri snapped, earning a glare from Mila and a pat on the head and a grin from Viktor. “The speech was perfectly fine. It gave the media what they wanted, anyway. Ignore Mila.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “She’s just thirsty for the crown and all the dancers that come with it.”

Mila scoffed. “Yuri! How inconsiderate!” Viktor gave a chuckle.

“Mila, I think we all know that you want the crown, however, and I’m very determined to keep my position as Crown Prince of this empire…” Viktor simply teasingly walked off, aggravating Mila and amusing Yuri overall.

***

“Your highness…” Minami bowed at the door. “Do you need anything?” Minami was a young boy who offered himself to serve the royal family. Unexpectedly, he got the position as Viktor’s private butler. Viktor simply twirled a lock of hair in his hands, looking uninterested.

“No. That would be all, Minami. Thank you.” He raised his eyebrow. “What’s on the schedule for tonight? Mila was speaking about some...event she’s doing at dinner.”

“O-Oh! She’s having a gathering at Babicheva Tower. The Princess said it was a surprise, but she wanted Prince Yuri, a-as well as you Sir, to attend,” Minami replied.

“Okay.” Viktor closed his eyes in thought. He knew that it would most likely a gathering for Mila to boast, but he was willing to participate. “I will attend. Put it on my schedule.”  
“Yes, Sir.”  Viktor stood from his chair and towered over Minami, who shifted his eyes agitatedly. Viktor gave a warm smile.

“Minami…you’re free to go for the night. I’ll make it in time for dinner at Babicheva Tower, you’ve done enough.” He said, placing his hand on the young boy’s fiery red hair. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Minami’s eyes were wide with shock. Aren’t demons supposed to be the most depraved creatures? He fell to his knees and bowed to the ground.

“Thank you so much, Sir.” Viktor gave him a worried look.

“Y-you’re welcome. Er...perhaps you should get up from the floor though. That’s not very sanitary,” Viktor said, offering a hand. Minami took it and smiled.

“Thank you, your Highness.”

***

 

“The Demon and Elfish War lasted a century, fought between the most powerful demon and elf warriors. This war lasted an entire century.”

“A century?” Yuuri’s hands covered his mouth. “I couldn’t imagine a war that long! Imagine all the warriors that died!” Phichit whined.

“Ah, Yuuri! Let me finish reading will you? This is our only free time as dancers and you’re going to waste it, you silly!” Phichit playfully pushed Yuuri, earning a push back.

“Fine. Continue.” Yuuri chuckled.

“The Demons ultimately won the war, driving the Elves into hiding. Though the Elves had strength in numbers, the Demons used the Black Pearl to gain dark magic and defeat the Elves. However, the obtaining of the Black Pearl meant an eternal separation of light and dark magic.” Phichit gave a pessimistic sigh.

“So the Elves are never going to come back then…” Yuuri huffed. Phichit winked and pointed to a section in the aged book.

“Unless, a hero can bring ultimate harmony and use the Staff of Casimir to defeat the demonic reign forever.” Phichit giggled. “You wouldn’t want that, Yuuri! That means the death of your ‘handsome Prince Viktor,’” he teased. A blush stormed against Yuuri’s cheeks.

“I-I mean--he’s eye candy, after all. That’s all though!” Yuuri stuttered, struggling to convince Phichit otherwise.

“Uh-huh.” Phichit closed the ancient book and tucked it underneath his mattress. He loved to study Elfish history, even though it was a crime to speak about them--especially in a demon royal family palace. But oh, Phichit was the rebellious one. “Don’t you have a performance tonight, Yuuri?” he suddenly asked. Yuuri perked, caught up in his daydream.

“Yeah. Only for the Princess though.”

“I don’t...think so.”

“W-what do you mean?” Yuuri asked.

“Her Highness was asking Prince Yuri and Prince Viktor’s butlers to inform them about dinner in this tower, and that she had a surprise…” Phichit swepted his hair back nervously.

“B-but...her Highness...told me I was dancing at dinner for her?” Yuuri’s mind began to race. “That couldn’t mean--” Phichit gave Yuuri a sympathetic smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to do your makeup well tonight for that then…”

“Oh my god, Phichit. You aren’t making the situation any better.” Yuuri’s eyes darted in every direction, his anxiety spiking. Phichit rubbed circles on the raven’s back.

“Shhh...it’ll be okay. How do you think I felt when I had to dance for the old Emperor Yakov?” He said, trying his best to comfort his friend. Yuuri gave an outburst of laughter.  

“I’ll be fine. Dancing is what I do best, right?” Yuuri chuckled, giving Phichit an encouraging embrace.

“Haha, right.”


	2. The Dancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor faces conflicting feelings as he is met with a enchanting dancer at Babicheva Tower.

“Viktor! Yuri! My dearests, please take a seat!” Princess Mila beamed. She was delighted to have dinner with her siblings since they don’t interact outside of formal events. She was an excellent hostess, having her tower decorated and cleaned thoughtfully. It was quite clear to them that she was a huge show-off.  


Babicheva Tower was truly a lovely sight, and everyone knew it. The decoration had flair, with rubies and gold strains glistening everywhere you looked. The marble floor was recently shined, reflecting in the white and red lights shining down on it. Deep crimson silk lined the walls, paired with chains of gold. It was evident that Mila favored red. It was a regal color that suited her well.   


Viktor gave a considering fake smile, sitting in the velvet seat at a small table, covered with a white tablecloth, laced with gold. The table was already set with floral centerpieces of deep red roses and lit candles. Mila grinned as they all sat and the tower doors closed, cueing the start of the evening. Yuri shifted uncomfortably in his chair as butlers surrounded the table, setting steaming, fresh food down on their plates. Mila lifted her nose, her azure eyes swelling with pride. Her intent was to show the entire empire that she was the one fit to be empress.   


“Mila, this looks delicious. Thank you for hosting this,” Viktor acknowledged, making Mila beam. He didn’t enjoy these types of gatherings, but he came for Mila. Even if they were competing for the crown, he still loved his sister dearly. She giggled.   


“Vitya...you think that this is all? Just eating in silence?” She twirled her fork in her hands before clanging it against the glass. Suddenly, a dancer emerged from a velvet curtain, gaining the Royals’ attention. “This is my dancer. He is truly a gifted one. I won’t marry him…” She sighed. “But he’s a nice addition to have, don’t you think?” Viktor gave a quick glance at the dancer before paying attention to his food at hand. He was interested in governing an empire, not dancers.   


Mila clapped in excitement. “Dance for us!”   


The dancer bowed lowly before getting into position. [The passion of a violin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyKkJb6nrfs) echoed throughout the room, ruling the dancer’s sway. His raven hair accented the golden circlet, giving him a charm. His hips moved swiftly with the fast-paced music. The fabric of his skirt swayed back and forth with his movements, sometimes slipping past his leg, revealing the slit in the skirt and the toned thigh concealed within it. He was a skilled dancer, definitely one of the finest.   


Viktor’s eyes scanned his movements, becoming entranced with the heat of the dance. He observed the dancer’s every feature carefully, from the sweat beading on his chest decorated with pearls, rubies, and gold strands, to his hips moving seductively under the dim light. The dancer’s eyes fluttered open, and for a split second, their eyes locked. Viktor’s eyes widened, his grip on his fork becoming loose.   


He quietly deplored the loss of eye contact, fascinated in the browns and shimmers of the dancer’s eyes. He subconsciously wanted this man. He wanted to graze his hands over his body and claim him as his. It was a demon’s instinct, but Viktor didn’t want to accept that. The Crown prince didn’t own any dancers, he didn’t feel the need for one. But this one made him reconsider these thoughts.   


_How did Mila get this dancer?_   


“Vitya?” Mila purred. “Is something wrong?” She had observed Viktor’s reactions the entire time. It was unusual to see the Crown prince in a state that is not calm and collected. Viktor’s blinked out of his daze, shaking his head slowly.   


“N-No… Nothing’s wrong,” he responded, being met with a giggle from Mila. His eyes returned to the dancer, noticing how enraptured he was in his performance. It was almost as if the raven had been under a spell. Viktor knew that this dancer was skilled, but why was he becoming so incredibly bewitched? He swept a hand through his hair, feeling his face feeling hot. Viktor licked his lips, feeling parched. He hadn’t even noticed when the dancer had finished his performance. What had snapped him into reality was Mila’s deafening applause. The dancer bowed and disappeared back into the velvet curtain. He quietly clapped.  


“What the hell is wrong with you, Viktor? You look as if Lilia slapped you across the face,” Yuri snapped, making Viktor panic. He laughed dryly.   


“I am not used to Mila’s chefs. The food was--quite spicy! I couldn’t even eat it all!” He smiled, trying to convince his siblings who simply grinned back at him. “What?”   


“It seems the food wasn’t spicy for Viktor, but the dancer definitely was,” Yuri jested. Mila burst out in laughter. Viktor’s eyes darted between the two, sweat beading on his forehead. He knew that they were right, but he didn’t want conflict between him and Mila. Demons were very attached to their dancers. Nobody took a demon’s dancer without a fight. And he _wanted_ that dancer.  


“N-No! Mila, Yuri. I promise you; it’s not like that!” Viktor attempted to excuse himself, but his dilemma was that he didn’t exactly know what’s wrong with him. Why did he have such intense feelings? He has never had such a strong reaction to someone, but he decided to keep it to himself. His siblings chuckled softly and continued eating, engaging in quiet conversation while Viktor contemplated his feelings. His mind raced with thoughts that constantly replayed the dance. Viktor didn’t know what was wrong. He had never felt this way. He had never felt such strong emotions. All of his life he had one focus: becoming Emperor. He had put all his drive, energy, and actions into that goal. Never did he think about other things that his siblings worried about such as dancers and love and such.   


But Viktor realized that this...feeling described what he had been told from Yakov as a young child.

  
***  
Yakov sighed as another stack of documents was placed in front of him. He called a servant to dismiss the paperwork as he saw his eldest peeking through the door.   


“Vitya. Come sit on my lap, young boy,” he called. The young Viktor scurried over up the throne steps and climbed up to Yakov’s lap. He looked down from the throne, never being in the large chair. “One day, Vitya, You will sit on this throne and look down on your subjects. That day will come sooner than expected, so prepare yourself.” Yakov brushed a long lock of platinum hair behind Viktor’s ears. The child was already aware of the weight his name carried, as well as the role he played in this society.   


“Yes, Papa.” The nine-year-old child leaned his head against Yakov’s chest, indulging in the rare embrace. Yakov smoothed his hand across Viktor’s long hair, the locks slipping through his fingers and smoothly sliding past them. He chuckled.   


“Vitya...when you fall in love--and you will one day--you will feel as if you have the worst illness in the world. That’s how demons fall in love. We have horrible symptoms. Don’t you think that’s so bizarre?” Yakov’s first love was Lilia. She was a ballet dancer that held his heart captive by her beautiful dancing. When he took her as his bride, he knew that she was a befitting Empress. Viktor’s young eyes stared with amazement. He twirled a lock of hair on the ends of his fingers.   


“I-I hope I fall in love one day,” the young Prince stuttered.   


“You will, Vitya. And you’ll know when you do.” Yakov patted the boy’s head as he rose from his lap. “Go run off to your studies now. You have to be smart to run an empire one day, you hear?” Viktor nodded enthusiastically as he hurried down the corridor.   
***  


Viktor had never forgotten that advice. He kept it dear to him since it came from his wise Father. But he definitely knew one thing was true.   
He was in love. And he planned to do something about it.   


Even though he barely ate his dinner, Viktor suddenly rose from his chair. Mila and Yuri looked at him with furrowed brows. It was much too early until the end of dinner, and Mila had more things to show.  


“Viktor? What’s wrong?” Mila questioned. “Are you sick or something?” Viktor shook his head. He needed rest. He needed to relax. His muscles tensed and his mind raced with panic that he had never experienced before...  


“I’m just tired. I’ll head to my chambers now to rest. Thank you for dinner,” he quickly stammered.   


“S-sure.” Mila motioned for butlers to open the heavy doors for him. She was very confused as to why Viktor was acting this way. He strolled out of the tower, desperate for rest and a plan of action.   


Roaming around the palace, he prepared himself for the long walk to his tower. In the palace, each of the royal family members had their own personal tower. It was designed that way when it was built. In honor of every member, there was Feltsman Tower, Nikiforov Tower, Babicheva Tower, and Plisetsky Tower. Each tower held the members’ military quarters, servants’ quarters, throne room, dining area, kitchen, and the royal quarters. Viktor’s tower held his own personal designs, decorated with silver, glass, navy blue, gray, and occasionally, diamonds. Though it was very consistent, the design was lovely. His tower had character and made Viktor feel at rest whenever he was stressed from the commotion of the day.  


Viktor’s chamber doors were opened by the two guards standing outside his door. Viktor stepped inside and pushed the door closed immediately. He stepped into the luxurious bathroom, decorated with candles and marble. The glass of the mirror and windows glistened in the moonlight above. With a snap of a finger, Viktor lit all the candles in the room. He let his heavy, expensive [clothes](https://violetky.deviantart.com/art/Commission-Outfit-July-08-467286786) fall to the floor, his ivory, muscular skin becoming exposed. The scars that sullied his skin held years of combat and magical training. Turning to the marble bathtub, he drew the water, letting the tub fill, before he sunk into the steaming water. His muscles relaxed in the submersion. His favorite scent, pine trees, filled the air. Viktor took a deep, shaky, breath. Here, Viktor loved to think and relax. But this time, he was tense and alerted.   


After bathing, he ignored his bed and his balcony, his favorite places in his chambers, and sat by his desk, gazing into his reflection ahead of him.   


“I am not in love with a dancer. I am not in love with a dancer. I am not in love with a dancer,” he growled, trying to drill the message into his stubborn head. His mind refused to believe the words. For so long, Viktor’s entire life had been the duty of a Prince. For the first time, he had considered love, and he hated himself for it. He didn’t have time for love in his life! Right?  


Viktor stared at his features in the mirror. The olive green robe hugged his muscles befittingly. His accented horns uprooting from his head contrasted well against his shiny platinum hair, giving him a fearing but handsome appearance. His striking azure eyes held his beauty and sharpness. Viktor knew that he was attractive, and he also knew that he needed a bride by the next blood moon. Viktor planned to just randomly pick a dancer to become his bride. Finding one was never his concern, hundreds of dancers would be willing to marry him. But now Viktor found that he had quite the fondness for this...dancer.   


The issue was that the dancer belonged to Mila. Dancers are supposed to stay loyal to their chosen master and never leave them. If the dancer were to come to Viktor and dance for him and become his spouse, there was a chance that he would be executed by Mila’s vicious executioner. Viktor didn’t want to risk the dancer’s life by “inviting” him. But Viktor was clever, and he smirked as a devious plan came to mind.   


If the dancer can’t willingly come to Nikiforov Tower, then I can forcefully make him come to me.   


Viktor immediately rose from his vanity mirror, stepping out of his chambers. His steps were harsh and rushed. He didn’t have time to waste. He addressed the guards standing outside his doors.   


“You.” The guard was startled by his sudden words. He straightened himself and quickly bowed. Viktor rolled his eyes in annoyance. Why was the guard standing outside his chambers so incompetent?   


“Y-Your Highness?” the guard stuttered. Viktor leaned against his closed doorway, placing a hand on his hip.  


“Report to my General to meet me first thing in the morning tomorrow. We have important matters to discuss…” Viktor ordered, the commanding words flowing off his lips smoothly. He had a gift of leadership, and it showed in his speech. “Is that clear?”  


“Y-Yes, your Royal Highness…”   


He smirked and entered his chambers once again, slamming the door. He needed his sleep for the night, there were important plans to discuss with General Christophe in the morning…

  
***  


Yuuri splashed water on his face, washing the stress of the night off. He found dancing for people of importance exhausting, even if he enjoyed dancing. He sighed, turning the water off and patting his face dry. He brushed a hand through his thick, black hair, however, the typical demon horns were not present on his head.   
Phichit stood at their bathroom door.  


“Soooo…” Phichit smirked. “How was it?” Yuuri sighed and sat at the foot of his bed. He looked at the ceiling.   


“Well for one, Prince Viktor looked as if he was going to drool all over his food. I don’t know if the food was that good or--”  


“Yuuri! He was drooling over you!” Phichit shook Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri’s face soured.   


“H-Huh?” Yuuri blinked. “I mean--I just danced how I usually do!” Yuuri groaned. “A prince like him would never even bat an eye at me. I’m not interested! I-I’m just...some trash.”   


“Say that you’re trash one more time and I’m going to slap you all the way to Nikiforov Tower.” Phichit held Yuuri’s shoulders, looking into the raven’s eyes. “You are not ‘some trash.’ Yuuri, believe me, or not--you’re the single most gifted dancer in this entire palace compared to all the Highnesses’ dancers.” Yuuri felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He chuckled and shook his head.   


“You really think so?” Yuuri responded. Phichit nodded.   


“Better than me. I suck at dancing! I don’t know how the Princess can stand it.” Yuuri laughed, covering it with his hand.   


“You’re good at dancing, Phichit. You’re really good at doing my makeup too!” Yuuri got up to get the old Elfish history book. “Now, how about we read another chapter?” Phichit perked in response.   


“Oooh! That’s a good idea. I want you to read this time.” Yuuri smiled and sat on the opposite side of the bed. He turned the browned pages and flipped to a page displaying a diagram of a staff, a magical vessel used by demons and elves to cast spells.   


“The Staff of Casimir is a staff like no other, created by Elfish wise men thousands of years ago and was used to counteract the demons’ possession of the Black Pearl. Its original purpose was to promote peace between the Demon and Elfish Royal Families,” he read, furrowing his eyebrows, looking up at Phichit. “This staff possesses dark and light magic and was one of the main wants of the Demonic Royal Family.” Phichit widened his eyes.   


“Woah…keep reading! I want to know what happened to it!” Yuuri looked back down at the book, finding illustrations of demons and elves in warfare for possession of the staff.   


“Ever since the disappearance of the Elfish Royal Family, the Staff of Casimir has never been found. Legends state that the Elders put a powerful spell on it so that only the worthy could access it, however, this has not been proven to be factual.” Yuuri closed the book, stunned. “Phichit, how is that possible?” Phichit simply shrugged, rising from his side of the bed to turn to a page.   


“But you know what’s even crazier?” He quickly flipped to a page displaying an illustration of a profile view of an Elfish soldier. He put the book side-by-side to Yuuri. “You look like one!” Yuuri shook his head and suddenly took the book from Phichit’s hands and closed it. If there was any chance that he was an elf, he would definitely be killed.  


“I-I’m not an elf! That’s not possible!” His fingers grazed on his pointed ears. “I may not have horns like you or rounded ears, but I assure you I am a demon.” Phichit raised his eyebrow at that statement.   


“If you say so!” he replied, not arguing. Phichit knew that Yuuri’s race was a sensitive topic for him, and he respected that. Yuuri smiled warmly and tucked the book underneath Phichit’s mattress, walking back over to his bed. He shuffled into the covers and clapped, and the lights turned off.   


“Goodnight, Phichit.”  


“Goodnight, Yuuri. Don’t have wet dreams about Prince Viktor.”   


“Phichit!”

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically Viktor's gay awakening lolol, I hope you like it! 
> 
> Bless my beta reader, Emma she's such a blessing oh my goodness.   
> This story is also on Wattpad! So if you prefer that then go check it out there! 
> 
> I also really want to make my chapters longer and more detail-filling I guess...without making it too irrelevant and dragging. This one was about hmm 3,000 words so I was pretty satisfied. But do keep in mind that longer chapters = longer updates! I believe in quality > quantity and I'm sure that many of you guys do too so it'll all be worth it ;D 
> 
> Do comment and check out my Instagram! I really enjoy interacting with you guys~   
> Until next time!


	3. Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor plans a way to meet this dancer while Yuuri dines with Princess Mila.
> 
> Yuuri's crisis begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today's weather will hot with a 100 percent chance of vicky dicky
> 
> ;D enjoy

 

Viktor sat at a large wooden table, his hands placed on the desk and a smile plastered on his face. His meeting room was massive, the table outstretched to each side of the room with chairs on either side. The room was used to meet with foreign officials and for discussions among leaders. It was rarely used, but it was convenient to have. 

Viktor sighed, he was tense. His mind littered with thoughts of _ “what if” _ and  _ “how would.” _ He knew that he trusted his general, but this was  _ sensitive _ . This was personal. What would he think? Pushing all of that aside, Viktor swallowed his embarrassment and decided to have his meeting. His desire was stronger than his awkwardness. 

General Christophe hurriedly closed the door behind him, brushing his hand through his bleached hair. His uniform was tidy; the silver buttons accenting the navy cloth well. Insignias and medallions of honor decorated Christophe’s chest, displaying his loyalty and his prominence. Christophe had been a friend to him since youth, and he was delighted to promote him to General. But he was more than an officer, he was a friend. And Viktor knew that Christophe would do his best to fulfill this...special request. 

Christophe bowed lowly, considering the Prince’s presence. “Good morning, Prince Viktor.” he sat at Viktor’s right hand. It was where he belonged, and where he would stay. Viktor smiled warmly, the General was someone he respected and cherished dearly, someone he could open up to without keeping his Royal guise. Viktor placed a hand on Chris’ forearm, trying to loosen the tenseness in the clammy room. 

“It’s just Vitya, Chris. You’re always being so formal.” Viktor chuckled, his hand coming up to his laugh. Chris grinned, appreciative of Viktor’s comfort. 

“You’re Crown Prince, Vitya,” he raised his eyebrow. “Emperor Yakov would not approve,” Chris responded humoredly. Viktor rose from his seat. He teased Chris in his stride and locked the door. 

“Yasha isn’t here, Chris,” Viktor purred, winking in response. Chris was right. Yakov scolds any soldiers or servants that don’t refer to the Royals to their proper titles, Viktor’s being ‘Your Royal Highness’ or ‘Your Highness.’ Viktor didn’t care. Chris was Chris, and he felt just that comfortable with him. 

“There’s my Vitya,” He chuckled. “You never change.” Viktor sat back down, lacing his fingers between each other. A sneer played at his lips, the mysterious dancer filling his thoughts. His features splayed across Viktor’s head. He knew that Chris would be doing his best with this abnormal request.

“Chris, please excuse this selfish request.” The atmosphere stiffened as Viktor’s voice deepened.

“Of course, I would never judge you, even if you asked me for ice cream at Witching Hour,” Chris retorted, earning a sigh of relief from Viktor. 

“I want you to kidnap a specific dancer from Princess Mila.” Chris’ eyes widened at the request. “Ravenette, pale skin, chocolate brown eyes...the most skilled dancer there. I want him.” Viktor’s eyes darkened. “No matter how many men it’ll take.” His underlying mischief became exposed. Vitya wasn’t usually this rash, but he was frantic with desperation. His mind raced Viktor shifted in his chair, thoughts of the dancer filling his mind and making him...frustrated. 

“Of course, Prince Vitya.” Chris enjoyed this new side of Viktor. The Prince was usually cold and stern, but now, he’s needy and vulnerable. A smile tempted his lips. “I’ll have the dancer in your possession by next morning, maybe even tonight. Would you like me to turn the grand chambers beside your chambers into a dancers’ quarter?” 

Viktor had never owned dancers, so he didn’t have dancers’ chambers. Now he had to invest in one, making it as comfortable as possible for this dancer. Viktor forgot to consider this, but now that he did, he wanted the dancer to live pleasantly. He wanted the beauty to live like a Royal and never think about returning to Mila’s tower again. Viktor realized that his thoughts were quite possessive, but he didn’t care. He wanted this dancer to only be loyal to him--not some witch whom he called sister. 

“Yes, that can be arranged. Talk to the designer and make it as lovely as possible. When we have the dancer, we will fit him in appropriate clothing,” Viktor stood and took Chris’ hand for a handshake, then pulled him into a quick embrace. Chris smiled as he wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist. “You’ve always been someone I trust, Chris,” Viktor whispered into the General’s chest. “And this is something that I want very badly, so please hurry.” Chris pulled away, keeping his hands on Viktor’s shoulders. He looked into the Prince’s eyes, observing the great need in his superior’s eyes. 

“It will be done. But if you keep hugging me, the dancer won’t be there until tomorrow afternoon.” Chris chuckled. He was glad to be the Prince’s trusted friend. Viktor didn’t trust people often. He assumed their main motive was to gain power from him, so Viktor never befriended many. But Chris was different. He was kind. He was caring. When Viktor was young and he felt alone, left with a heavy burden on his shoulders, he looked to Chris for comfort. Some would almost consider their relationship romantic, but it was strictly platonic and made out of mutual care and respect. 

   Chris stepped out into the corridor, turning back to catch a glimpse at Viktor. The young Royal looked stressed and disheveled, weights lingering underneath his eyes and his platinum hair a mess. Even his golden circlet was tilted on his head. He relied on him, and Chris knew that he needed to get the job done.

“I’ll be back soon,” he reassured. Viktor simply nodded before the General bowed and closed the door to the meeting room. He couldn’t wait until then. He needed to know how that dancer took his heart as a hostage. Hell--he needed him in general. But until then, Viktor found a way to bear the waiting. 

He sighed, hurriedly locking the door to the conference room once more. Viktor’s breath suddenly sharpened, his attention heeding to his...pants. He found a seat in the center chair. He needed a release, something he hadn’t given himself in years. Viktor pursed his lips, contemplating whether if he wanted to do this. But his mind--his desire--had surely won. He needed this  _ badly _ . 

He freed himself from the fabric of his pants, his member in hand. Goosebumps formed on his skin as images of the night at Mila’s tower flooded his memory. The seduction and charm of the dance entranced him time and time again, making his desire more intense by the second.

He wanted this dancer so badly. He wanted to meet him, demand him how he took his breath away from the dance. He wanted this dancer to know just how much he wanted him. He envisioned his hands running down his smooth, flawless skin, carding in his thick black hair. He imagined the dancer’s thick eyelashes fluttering and his brown eyes meeting his. Viktor knew one thing for sure: he was turned on by this dancer and his own scandalous thoughts. 

He guiltily took a firm grasp of his already hardened cock. He stroked himself, moving in rhythmic motions, gasping at the forgotten sensation. He increased the speed of a steady movement. He suddenly moaned, sudden shocks of pleasure coursing through his core. To his own shock, he did things that he would never think to do normally. They were irrational and selfish. 

His face flushed a deep red dancing at his milky cheeks. His breath quickened as he began to tire, his release nearing. Broken moans and gasps filled the room as Viktor delighted in his orgasm. His crystal-like eyes scanned the room, trying to find his composure. 

“Looks like I need to clean this up…” he whispered into the hollow space.

*** 

Yuuri was lazily reading in his chambers, already dressed and his makeup applied by Phichit. His best friend had been summoned to Plisetsky Tower. He had business with Prince Yuri’s dancer, Otabek. They were planning on doing a dance routine together for the Prince since Otabek had observed Yuri looked drained and weary. So until one of the guards came to summon him, Yuuri simply laid there, residing in the unusual silence of his room. 

There wasn’t much to do as a dancer. You wait and wait for your superior to summon you... But other than that Phichit and Yuuri would read many books and try on different outfits together in their own chambers. Leaving the dancer’s chamber for any reason your superior’s permission was prohibited and looked down upon. It was heavily enforced, with guards outside each corridor. The night guards were always irresponsible, though. So Phichit and Yuuri took advantage of this and would do “slumber parties,” talking about nonsense and palace gossip like a townswoman. They cherished the time they have together…

Yuuri’s eyes grazed over the Demon History book, his eyes growing heavier as the words began to slip from his mind. He rolled over on his back, the comfort of the mattress taking him, engulfing him. He suddenly wished that he could remove the heavy, dangling ornaments that hung on his neck. Yuuri was considered a beautiful dancer, having many beads and pearls hanging from his neck and his skirt a deep crimson red, both signs of a high-class servant and a skilled worker. He didn’t realize his worth, but he was a prominent figure in Babicheva Tower.

Yuuri lifted his hand carelessly, examining his own fingers. His mind was only filled with one name: Prince Viktor. This man he met that night was mysterious and obscure, and Yuuri truly wondered if he found interest in someone as insignificant and irrelevant to him. He was truly curious.  _ Me? A mere dancer? Why would Phichit think that? _ But something interrupted his thoughts. He jumped in shock as an intruder burst through the door, heaving steps trailing behind them. 

“My apologies for disruption, Sir.” The guard slightly bowed. Yuuri chuckled in response. He sat up on his bed, his hair now tousled. He didn’t like to be bowed at. He wasn’t of noble or royal rank, so why have that? Who told the guards to even bow to him anyway? 

“I’m not nobility, Sir. You don’t have to,” Yuuri said, his voice wispy and soft. Yuuri was very soft-spoken, his voice like wind rushing through cherry blossoms. But his words were influential, so his peers always hung on his every word. 

The guard immediately rose from his bow. “What is the matter?” Yuuri asked, already aware.

“Princess Mila has requested your presence at her private diner. She wishes to have lunch with you,” the guard flatly stated. Yuuri’s breathing stopped in its tracks. 

_ The Princess wants to have lunch with me? What for? _

It perplexed Yuuri as to why the Princess Mila,  _ the  _ Princess Mila, would want to spend an uninteresting lunch with him. Why were the royals so interested in him anyway? Yuuri hoped that with his role as a dancer, he would get a generous salary and be able to take it back to his family, who waited for him within the forests. He didn’t have interests in Royals, nevermind marrying them. 

Yuuri was suddenly glad that Phichit wasn’t here, he would be nagging Yuuri to captivate the Princess in interesting conversation. Yuuri simply knew that he was horrible at small talk, nevermind with an Imperial Royal.  _ Oh my god, she’s an Imperial Royal!  _

“M-Me? Right now?” Yuuri stuttered, his eyes shifting every direction. 

“Yes. Please follow me.” The guard quickly let Yuuri through his chamber doors, leading him down the corridor. The ceiling was lined with elegant lights. The red carpet lined with gold lay across the floor. Windows to the outside decorated the walls along with portraits of past Royal family members. The decoration was elegant but modern, giving the palace a glimpse of the Princess’ essence. 

The heavy doors to Mila’s diner opened, leaving Yuuri in awe once again. The Princess smiled at the center of the room, her carmine evening gown trailing behind her. Her stance was strong and elegant, giving her a sense of importance. Yuuri gulped.

“Yuuri! You’ve arrived! What a pleasant surprise,” Mila beamed. Yuuri laughed nervously, brushing a hand through his hair. He then remembered to bow and did so a bit--too quickly. 

“G-Good morning--I-I mean afternoon, Princess Mila.” He politely smiled to ease the tension. “It is also a pleasure to see you too.” Yuuri kept in his mind that many people wished for an invitation from the Princess, and many would be jealous to see him with this opportunity. This...opportunity was such an outlier for him. A  _ dancer _ \--with an opportunity like this? Outrageous to some. 

“Come, Yuuri.” Mila pushed out a chair for the dancer. “Let me be your host.” She sat him on her right side, for he was the only guest. What could Mila want from him? Yuuri thanked her as he sat down, gazing at the warm seafood already prepared for him. Mila smiled brightly, immediately digging into her food. Yuuri assumed that it was safe to eat now that she had started. He took the spoon shakily and brought it to his broth. He felt uncomfortable with the silence, so he spoke cautiously. 

“W-Why do you bring me here with you, your Highness? I do not deserve such a privilege,” He said with a careful tone. He didn’t wish to sound hostile and anger the Princess. Mila simply smiled at the humble statement. She cleared her throat. 

“I’m sure you recall the dinner I had a few nights ago.” 

“Yes, ma'am?” 

“My brother, Viktor, was so entranced in your performance… I could see it in his eyes.” Mila smirked. The fact that the Princess had confirmed this from Phichit was...amazing to Yuuri. It was crazy!

He would’ve never thought that he would attain the gaze of a Royal, nevermind enthrall one. 

“I’m honored that the Crown Prince...felt that way, Your Highness.” Yuuri twirled his fingers around the fabric of his skirt. “If his Highness ever wished...I-I would be glad to perform for him again,” he said, not sure if there was truth in the statement. Mila perked. 

“Ah, that was just what I wanted to discuss! You smart boy!” Mila grinned. “If Viktor does request for you to dance with him…” Mila’s eyes darkened, reminding Yuuri that she was a demon princess. “...I don’t want you to dance for him.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened as Mila crept from her seat. She traced her glossy red fingernail across Yuuri’s frail skin, examining his soft figure. He kept his eyes off from the Princess, a blush dancing at his cheeks. He felt her cold breath on his skin as her icy blue eyes scanned him carefully. Yuuri closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to calm his ecstatic nerves. 

“You are mine, Yuuri,” Mila bellowed, her voice resounding in the room. “...And mine alone.” Yuuri shifted his eyes, swallowing any kind of pride that was left in his throat.

He belonged to the Princess. He knew that when he signed that contract to be her dancer. He was hers. “I don’t care if Vitya commands you under his authority since he is cruel in that manner.” Mila kept her finger at Yuuri’s chin possessively. She had every right to. “Under my authority, you may only dance for me unless I say otherwise.” She cocked her head and smiled, bringing Yuuri’s gaze to her. “Is that understood?” 

Yuuri froze under her powerful gaze. “Yes, my Princess.” 

And with that Mila released him and sat back down, a cue for Yuuri to breathe again. Mila was manipulative. It was obvious that she did this for a reason. However, what Yuuri wasn’t aware of was Viktor’s underlying interest in him. But Mila was aware. And she planned to do everything she can to keep Viktor’s hands off her dancer. She knew that if Viktor couldn’t get a partner by his coronation ceremony, she would have the crown... and she would not let a mere dancer get in the way of her rightful throne.

“You look marvelous this afternoon, Yuuri. Too bad I’m not going to marry you, though.” The Princess sighed, her attention going back to her food at hand. Yuuri decided that the best thing he could do was eat. 

“Ah, who will you be marrying, Your Highness? If you don’t mind…” Yuuri responded, trying his best not to tremble while holding his spoon. The Princess smirked. 

“Sara. I’m sure you know her. Isn’t she divine?” Mila smiled at the thought of Sara. She was truly in love with her. Sara was Mila’s one true source of happiness for the Princess. They spent endless amounts of time delighting in each other’s comforting presence. She was truly a fit partner for her. 

Yuuri was familiar with this Sara. She joined the Princess’ court shortly after he did All of the dancers made sure to give her a warm welcome. She eventually took the Princess’ heart, warming the environment of the tower by their nearing engagement. Yuuri and Sala were very friendly with one another, and good friends until Mila had kept her mostly at her side.

“Yes, ma’am. Sara and I were good acquaintances when she first came to the palace. S-She’ll be a good spouse for you,” Yuuri acknowledged. Though he didn’t wish for a spouse, Yuuri simply supported all of the couples around him. He didn’t need a partner… right?

Mila smiled warmly, rising from her chair and taking Yuuri’s hand in hers. “That’s nice. I’m glad you two get along well…” Yuuri was puzzled by the sudden contact between him and the Princess, but perhaps she was just being friendly. “Thank you for lunch, Yuuri! I hope to see you again!” Yuuri laughed dryly. 

“Thank you too, Pri-” 

But before he knew it, he was outside the door of Mila’s dining room. Yuuri shook his head and smiled, making his way back to his chambers. 

_ Her Highness...she’s interesting.  _

***

The general approached the doorway carefully, four young cadets following closely behind. The moonlight slipped through the windows, casting shadows from their figures. Chris stood in front of the doorway, hovering his hand over the lock. Suddenly, a faint glow of light illuminated the area and left just as quickly. It was the dark magic that he possessed. Chris trained many years as a sorcerer’s apprentice, it was the many studies of an officer. He was skilled in not only weapons but magic. 

Without the use of a key, Chris opened the door, pulling his navy hood closer to his face. His mind remained calm despite the pressure. A guard could walk past or the Princess could awaken, but he kept composure. He knew that the Prince would be relying on his competence, it was imperative that he made it back to the safety of Nikiforov Tower immediately. Luckily, in this dancer’s chamber, there were only two beds, both of which had a dancer sleeping within them. Chris remembered Viktor’s words.

_ “Ravenette, pale skin, chocolate brown eyes...the most skilled dancer there. I want him.” _

Chris gazed upon the two beds, thankful of the moonlight. He found the dancer he needed. He slept peacefully, his raven hair falling over his eyes, his breathing steady and even. Chris could understand Viktor’s desire for this dancer. He was truly a beautiful sight. The general felt bad for awakening him…he sighed.

_ Sorry that I had to ruin your sleep, doll. _

At a snap of a finger, soldiers seized Yuuri, covering his mouth immediately. Yuuri’s eyes snapped open as he struggled in their firm grasps. He attempted to get Phichit’s attention, failing in the attempt. The bastard was such a heavy sleeper, nothing could awaken him. He felt fabric close in around his mouth, as well as a flash of light. Yuuri’s eyes began to become heavier with each passing second before he slipped into heavy sleep as he was a few moments ago. 

“That’ll last five minutes,” Chris whispered to his companions, slowly closing the door once more. He held Yuuri over his shoulders, managing the weight of the young man with ease. They quickly scurried along the palace floors, avoiding guards with their magical abilities and swiftly making it back to Nikiforov Tower successfully. 

With perfect timing, they made it to Viktor’s throne room. Viktor sat on the large chair, head resting on his fist. He couldn’t bring himself to sleep, he wished to meet this dancer as soon as his General captured him. Chris carefully set the unconscious Yuuri down, supporting his back and head with his shoulders. He gave a respecting nod towards the Prince, which he responded to with a yawn. The Prince held bags under his eyes. 

“Thank you, Chris, for this, really,” Viktor mumbled, scanning the dancer’s figure once more. His heart leaped in his chest. He sat up in his seat, adjusting his appearance. 

_ He’s here. He’s finally here. _

Everyone in the room stiffened as Yuuri shuffled in Chris’s arms. He yawned, making Viktor melt inside. The Prince didn’t even notice the blush that had taken over his cheeks. Yuuri sat up, rubbing his eyes and sighing. He gained awareness of the environment as he blinked a few times. When he turned to see Chris’ hand on his back, he jumped and scooted away immediately, a look of disgust plastered on his face. Chris simply chuckled, knowing that the frail dancer had no means of escape. Guards surrounded the entire room, blocking the entryway. Protective spells surrounded the castle in case Mila’s forces noticed Yuuri’s disappearance early. There was no way in or out. 

“Easy there...little doll. You’re safe with us,” The General cooed. Yuuri blinked and suddenly remembered the events before he was put underneath the spell. He inhaled sharply as his mind raced. Anxiety panged in his stomach. Fear evolved into worry...and soon into anger. Yuuri felt insulted, belittled. He was in a place where his life was set before him. He was in a place where he met friends. He was happy. And they stole that from him. So many thoughts and questions whipped across Yuuri’s mind. 

But the only thing he could stammer out despite his emotions was: “H-How dare you?” Viktor’s eyes widened at the sudden statement. “You took me away from all my friends, the people I considered family, too--” Yuuri scanned the area, his eyes brimming with tears.“What is this place?” He spat. Viktor then rose from his seat, gaining Yuuri’s attention. Yuuri’s eyes widened.  _ Prince...Viktor. _ He knew of the Demon Prince’s forces, how powerful he was. This isn’t Mila. She was merciful. Yuuri realized what he did in the presence of the Prince. Now, his fate laid in Viktor’s cold hands. He suddenly tried to rise from the ground in attempts of escape, but his muscles failed him, and he fell back down. He was weak in this situation. He could do nothing. 

“Careful, doll. That spell has lasting physical effects,” Chris teased, smirking. Yuuri looked at them all in genuine fear. What was he doing here? Why was he here? Viktor smirked and suddenly spoke, his voice resonating throughout the room. 

“Welcome to Nikiforov Tower, little piggy.” He chuckled. Yuuri glared sharply. His assumptions about the Prince were very wrong. Ideas of him being handsome and caring and kind were replaced with someone who was dirty, vicious, and intimidating. Yuuri trembled in fear at the thought. 

“You’re my dancer now. So you might as well forget about Mila and her pathetic servants,” Viktor teased. Yuuri’s eyes shifted across the room, his eyes trailing up to Viktor’s slowly. The Prince smirked under his gaze.

_ “You’re mine now.” _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update oof.  
> this week has been tough, I have finals this week so I made this chapter an extra long 4,000ish words.  
> hope you liked this update! o/

**Author's Note:**

> And now we take flight...everything may not make too much sense now, but I promise it will haha.
> 
> I'm Thalia! My instagram is @/meaty_katsudon if you haven't come from there. I usually update about this in my story~ I will not make promises, but I want to update every 2 weeks at least. If I haven't, you have my permission to beat my ass lolol


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